


Girl Genius: A Little Louder

by Black_Victor_Cachat



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: BAMF Agatha, BAMF Zeetha, Beta Read, F/M, Fighting Women Tea Society, Hints of Agatha/Gil/Tarvek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Victor_Cachat/pseuds/Black_Victor_Cachat
Summary: The undead Storm King has been released from his tomb beneath the streets of Paris, and is fighting his way to the surface, where a magnificent party is in full swing. However, in the ensuing events a few words which went unheard in another universe, are noticed now.
Relationships: Agatha Heterodyne & Zeetha Daughter of Chump, Axel "The Unstoppable" Higgs/Zeetha Daughter of Chump, Da Boyz & Zeetha Daughter of Chump
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	Girl Genius: A Little Louder

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Han502653. This story owes a lot to them really, as it was reading their [ Through a Lost Princess' eyes ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600544/chapters/26076102), and then discussing various ‘What If’ scenarios which inspired this story. A lot of Zeetha content, like her healing factor, and referencing what happened between her and Agatha after the ‘resistor’ incident, were directly drawn from there. Seriously, go read it. It has a LOT of very insightful stuff for a good chunk of the cast!
> 
> This is also posted Fanfiction dot net, where the rest of my stories are. Of course, the fandom is mostly here on AO3.

Despite hordes of brainwashed Parisian citizens, the mysterious Geisterdamen on giant spiders, and the city’s own well-meaning defenses, the Lady Heterodyne and her companions had finally reached the party. Not that they thought they were out of danger just yet . . .

While never lowering her guard, the smile of Princess Zeetha, daughter of Chump, still lit up her face as she saw and heard the awed reactions by the other guests to Agatha’s arrival. Her best friend was stealing the show with her custom dress, literally glowing with miniature lights.

Of course, since this was the coming-out party for Martellus Blitzengard, the place was crawling with vipers like him. How many of them wished Agatha dead? By the looks of things though, they had just finished their own fight here, likely against more Paris’ citizens infected by Slaver Wasps and turned into Revenants. Even so, that left probable enemies mixed up in the crowd in front of them, a definite enemy in the form of Martellus despite how he was trying to be friendly, and more enemies on their way. Fortunately, it seemed they had beat the biggest threat here; the furious corpse of the Storm King was still making his way up through the ground to extract his vengeance upon the rest of the world.

So as happy and carefree as Zeetha acted, most of her attention was on scanning the crowd for threats, while wishing she had some swords handy. She ignored the aches and bruises over her body, particularly her face, and the stinging electrocution burns on her palms. Skifanderans healed faster than Europans, and Violetta had given her some medicine. _After_ she had impressed upon Agatha that she was _never_ to use her as a ‘resistor’ again. She was _not_ her minion!

And then she heard that voice.

Zeetha’s body was already moving in the direction of it, her mind registering how it was from the same direction as the gunshot that had killed that Geister. The one they had wanted to keep alive for questioning. About details like how a Geisterdamen could recognize Skifanderan fighting styles, or for that matter, what exactly their plans for Paris were.

She heard the voice again, and zeroed in on it.

A voice that had haunted her nightmares for two years. A voice that had woke her up clutching for her heart.

 _“Merci, mademoiselle. What an excellent idea! I shall use your_ other _sword—” She pivoted and, with a graceful lunge, buried into Zeetha’s chest the cold steel of the sword which had been a gift from her mother. “—to cut you out entirely!”_

Without conscious thought, Zeetha took to the air, even as a distant part of her confirmed the similar shade of hair and build to her target. How a gun had been snatched from the blonde’s hand, and shattered by an apparent older lady.

A golden-skin leg drew back even as she remembered she was in the midst of Paris, surrounded by Europa’s elite, and that decapitating someone could cause even greater threats to Agatha and the rest of her friends.

Zola Anya Talinka Venia Zeblinkya Malfeazium, the Queen of the Dawn, and ruler of a growing faction of Northern Europa, had only a heartbeat to register what was coming towards her.

Register, and recognize those fangs and green hair.

Zeetha’s foot shattered Zola’s left shoulder to paste **.**

**_.-~*~-._**

Agatha could not even track Zeetha’s sudden movement, only catching a blur.

That sound of crushed flesh and bone was unmistakable however.

She rushed over to see Zeetha standing over a woman in a bright, white dress.

“ _Lady Heterodyne_ ,” snarled the Master of Paris, always distrustful of her family for the uncountable crimes of their ancestors, “ _what is the **meaning of this!?**_ ”

Having seen Zeetha kick off the head of the Master’s clanks, Agatha knew her best friend had wanted her prey alive, and must have had a reason for all this. So instead of answering, she deftly bent down to pull off the blonde’s mask. Fortunately for her, given the state of her shoulder, she was unconscious. _Un_ fortunately for her though, she was still very recognizable.

“Ah.” Agatha projected her voice so it would carry over the stunned audience. “Zola, my cousin. She was the fake Heterodyne from two years ago. Before she escaped, she implanted and imprisoned a copy of The Other’s memories into herself, stealing all those secrets. I suspect this explains much of what is happening to your city right now.”

Why could she not have more family like Theo?

“She is also the Queen of the Dawn,” rumbled Martellus as he came over, also making himself heard. “She was using this latest attack to publicly attach herself to me. An attack using the Other’s Revenants and Geisters. Yes, this explains _very_ much.”

“ _I see_ ,” was all the Master darkly said. Agatha took note of how every time she had met him, his voice had remained locked into the harmonics of a Spark in fugue. Further proof of his power and self-control. Two of his large clanks came forward to secure Zola, and carry her off. “ _I will deal with her later. First we must prepare for Andronicus. When he arrives—ah_.”

“Papa!” cried Colette Voltaire, plugged directly into the city of Paris’ mainframe. “Something is coming!”

“ _Yes, child_ ,” he sadly said, having the far more complete connection he was so infamous for. His old friend and king, the man he had _worshipped_ before the Heterodynes had corrupted him into a monster, was already here.

So be it. As the last survivor of the Shining Coalition, may he be strong enough to stop this maddened remnant, and preserve the city he had built for the people to live in safety.

_May I survive long enough to protect it one more time._

**_.-~*~-._**

“ _Get up, ‘old man_ ,’” mocked Andronicus Valois, the Storm King of Europa. He advanced through what was once Paris, yet now a nest of oathbreakers and wizards, and apparently the home of the last surviving member of both crimes. Young Voltaire, no matter how much he had aged, _would_ tell him what happened to his beloved Euphrosnia, and then the traitor would be disposed of.

His skin glowed a sickly green under the gold, steaming armour, inhuman as his voice. “ _I have seen you take_ far _worse than_ that _, and I require_ answers.”

“ _Fool_ ,” hissed Voltaire as he struggled to sit up. His hair white, and lined with wrinkles. “ _You’ve already_ had _your answers. You just don’t_ like _them. Will you never accept that you were_ used?!”

“Impossible! _Van Rijn was against her from the start—you_ all _were! He took the first opportunity he had to spirt her away! Did I not see her vanish before my eyes—in_ his very workshop ** _!_** _It was_ no accident!”

 _“—And I tell you, it_ was! _Ask yourself_ why _she was in the workshop! What was she_ looking _for? She ran afoul of something_ none _of us understood, while searching for secrets to_ steal! _You_ knew _she could not be trusted! The Muses_ warned _you! The Heterodynes had_ no intention _of honouring the truce! You beloved bride was simply another of their fiendish weapons—and she did her job_ well!

“ _You were indeed betrayed—_ ” lighting flashed upon the Master’s fist before erupting into a bolt which shocked Andronicus and sent him flying, “— _but it was_ not _by your_ friends!”

Shaken, the king steadied himself, only to hear —his senses one of the things Bludtharst had improved— a woman say the words “—the sword!?”

Instinctively he reached out with his hidden senses, and knew that Archimedes’ Lever, his personal sword, bound to his very soul, was drawing _nearer_. Fools!

Choosing to confront young Voltaire at full strength, he leapt up to the balcony he had glimpsed when he first arrived. Sure enough, there was his blade, with some other traitor in golden armour reaching for it. “ _That is_ mine _, whelp!_ ”

With that he slapped the impertinent flea aside with his massive mace, Platonic Solid, and reached for his prize.

“Hoy! No Slasher for hyu!”

Two arms wrapped around the cart holding Archimedes’ Lever, and it jumped just out of his reach.

“ ** _What!? Demon!_** ”

Grinning insolently, the green Jäger (in a suit of all things!) hefted up the container for a better grip. In a blur, a purple one was at its side to help carry the load. “Hyu wants it? Come und gets it!”

Memories of their atrocities flashed through the Storm King’s mind, as well as just how _hateful_ their whole insolence always was.

“ ** _RAAAAARGH!_** ”

**_.-~*~-._**

“Well,” muttered Agatha, “ _that_ buys us some time. At least they know not to touch the sword directly.”

Granted, the fact it was crackling with electricity even when at rest was a clue, yet her Jägers remained pretty reckless at times.

Dimo and Maxim tossed the sword and its container for Jenka and Oggie to catch, beginning what was probably the highest stake game of ‘Keep Away’ Paris had seen. With Andronicus in hot pursuit, the area around them was quickly becoming levelled, despite the best efforts of Martellus’ fighters. Meanwhile the guests were trying to find the safest way to flee. Fortunately he had been drawn far enough away for Agatha to feel reasonably safe enough to come up with some sort of plan.

She glanced down at the senseless Martellus, and repressed the urge to say “I told you so,” for his idiocy in bringing out the very thing Andronicus needed to become stronger. However . . . She started to Heterodyne as she slipped into the Madness Place. Martellus was a fool, yes, but not such a fool that he would not have done so without something resembling a plan. After all, he was a strong Spark, whose family would have spent years studying that sword, and he had said that he had been doing the same ever since it was activated. Finally, the man fought to win and had been _expecting_ this fight.

So he believed he had some way to wield the legendary blade himself. A genetic connection to his ancestor? Yet it had been centuries, certainly not something he would have solely relied upon. So something in this suit of armour he had taken the time to put on.

Tools slipped out from under her dress, and she began to disassemble the gauntlets. She noted that despite the blood on his head, the brute still breathed, which she had mixed feelings about. So long as that ‘chemical leash’ of his still afflicted her at least.

“Any ideas?” asked Zeetha, hanging back. A smart move, as with her burnt hands, and lack of weapons, it was dangerous for her to get involved in such a fight.

The very thought of _how_ her best friend had gotten hurt, been _electrocuted_ , made Agatha’s fingers involuntarily twitch, nearly damaging her work.

When they had been heading to the party and getting her dress ready, Zeetha had taken the time to furiously inform Agatha she was to _never_ use her like that again. Not as a person, but a _thing_ , and only then had she remembered and processed what exactly she had done. Sick with horror at how she had been behaving like one of _those_ Sparks.

Like Lucrezia.

This flashed through her mind so fast she was confident none of the others had noticed, and she continued her task.

“Martellus was planning to use Archimedes’ Lever. Probably with something in his armour. It’s still a bad plan, yet we don’t have much choice right now. At the very least, we can make it so that Jenka or Maxim can get it away from him, while the Master recovers.”

“Ah.” Zeetha glanced at Violetta. “They’re also the two who’re the most used to swords.”

More taunting could be overheard as the Jägers were having a blast. Something about “piggy in der middle,” right now.

“ ** _DIE! DIE! DIE!_** ” screamed the Storm King, laying waste to Martellus’ troops and anything around him.

“Alright,” nodded the Smoke Knight, feeling a little nervous at this whole mess. Still, she was with her Lady until the end.

“ _Castle_ ,” called out Agatha, now in the Madness Place, “ _switch out with the Beast! Train, go help fight!_ ” 

It took a few moments, but then the massive and suborned child collector clank jumped up on the balcony, and hefted its massive death ray before going to join the fray.

“Mistress?” asked the miniature clank containing Castle Heterodyne.

“I need your help here.”

**_.-~*~-._**

“ _Urg_ ,” grunted the Master of Paris as he finished standing up.

“Papa!” His daughter Colette, Xerxsephnia von Blitzengaard, and hrm, yes, that was Tarvek Sturmvoraus in disguise. The young man in question was holding out the Staff of Triumph for Simon to reclaim.

Without a word he took it back, and reached back into the city systems to figure out what was happening.

“He’s after Archimedes’ Lever,” Colette rushed out. Before her were more of the computer monitors she had been hooked up to when he had first arrived. Moreover, he was silently impressed to see she had used them to control a platform to lower herself and her companions down. “The Jägers have it, and are keeping it away from him—”

Oh, _goodness_. He was going to have to fight alongside _Jägermonsters_!? Could this night get any worse!? 

“—except that’s all they’re managing so far!”

“ _Very well then_ ,” he growled. With a touch of will, he was flying through the air atop of one of the stones of Paris.

For a moment Colette looked as if she wanted to join her father, before instead bringing up more data on what he was doing. She could not help fight directly, so she would do all she could to support him. Ease the strain.

Plus . . . she was getting better and _better_ at this . . .

**_.-~*~-._**

“Most of Martellus’ Knights of the Hunt are down,” reported Violetta, “and a bunch of the Smoke Knights too. Not that the poison seems to be slowing Andronicus down.”

“Your catcher clank’s helping,” added Zeetha. “Only he’s getting closer and closer to the Jägers. He’s too fast, and the sword’s cart too heavy, for them to just run away with it. Plus, I think Dimo’s trying to keep them close enough for whatever he knows you’re planning.”

The mansion they had originally arrived at was a burning wreck now, along with a growing number of neighbouring ones. Although Agatha was oblivious to any rubble coming near her as she hummed away, blocking out any distracting sounds.

She had the parts of the armour she needed off, and could understand the general principles of it now. Castle Heterodyne was of invaluable help, having memories of past Heterodyne speculation about the blade. Indeed, while her ancestor had not studied this particular weapon, Bludthurst _had_ apparently gotten a detailed look at Platonic Solid, likely scheming to eventually claim it for himself from his nemesis. The mechanics so the weapons could only be safely wielded by their intended wielder appeared very similar. Overall, she figured she could get it to work, and—

“Ah! There we go!”

Hearing Zeetha’s voice, Agatha glanced up to see the Master of Paris rejoining the battle. Massive pieces of stone flung themselves at Andronicus. Unfortunately, it appeared he had done something to turn many of the former knights into constructs, which were hemming in the Jägers so they could not move around as well.

Even worse, Platonic Solid was firing sickly purple blasts almost wildly as its wielder became increasingly unstable. He also appeared more and more inhuman as well. Although the Master was able to catch one of those shots at least.

Molten blue power lanced out at the Storm King, and he screamed in rage —not pain— as his right arm was vaporized. While his left still held Platonic Solid, at least he could not use both weapons now.

“ **Ha ha!** ” boomed the Beast of Rails at finally connecting a shot. It was good at driving the clank . . . firing, not so much. There was a lot of property damage downrange of it. Although since it was apparently Martellus’ place, Agatha would not mind a few more misses.

“That’s going well,” grinned Zeetha, only for Murphy to raise its unwanted head.

The Master clutched his chest and fell to his knees, with Jenka and Oggie going to help him. It made sense, as he was their heaviest hitter, yet Dimo and Maxim were struggling even more now to stay ahead of the deranged king. Even with one arm, Andronicus would just not quit.

“. . . Or not . . .”

Concentrating back on her work, Agatha saw that Castle Heterodyne had finished his own adjustments. “Alright, it’s done. We’ve just got to get these gauntlets to one of the Jägers.”

There was a beat of silence, and then—

“There’s no time.”

**_.-~*~-._**

“Dis is bad,” grunted Dimo, no longer smiling as he and Maxim ran and dodged around increasingly frantic swings.

“Ho yez,” managed Maxim, his suit smoldering a bit. “Hy tinks ve made him schtupid mad at least.”

“Dats goot.”

Something blurred overhead of them, and they felt the weight of what they were carrying drop. “Ho! Vat!?”

Their jaws dropped in shock at the sight of Zeetha holding Slasher.

**_.-~*~-._**

Just wearing these metal gloves over her burnt hands was enough to send painful stings up Zeetha’s arms, but to grab a weapon actively shooting electricity out?

It took all she had not to scream.

Spasms ran up her body as she fought to keep standing. To not let this accursed blade slip free as shocks rippled up from it and over her.

In the end though, her Zumil needed her. The innocents of Paris needed her. And she was an Ashtara-damned Royal Princess Guardian of Skifander, and she _would not fail here and now!_

With all her will she pushed the pain away, and ducked under a swing of Platonic Solid.

Fortunately, Andronicus had been surprised as everyone else at her bold gamble, and after that reflexive swing he paused. “ _How is it that_ you _are able to wield_ my sword? _Who_ are _you, little girl?_ ”

It took some effort, yet she bared her fangs in a smile. “Zeetha, daughter of Chump. A Princess of Skifander.”

“ _Ah, a meddling royal then, as well as a wizard._ ”

Her eyes narrowed more in anger than pain now. “No, it was the Heterodyne who figured out how to do this. As for me, someone has to serve as an example of how a royal, a _king_ , should behave!”

That clearly struck a nerve the Jägers had somehow managed to miss.

“ ** _You dare?! I am the_ Storm King!**” screamed Andronicus anew. “ ** _If it wasn’t for_ me _, abominations like these_ Jägers _would have overrun Europa!_** ”

“Hyu is right.”

Something in those three words drew the attention of not only the combatants, but also the members of the nobility who had lacked either a safe chance to flee, or the wits to do so.

Across the courtyard, Dimo was silhouetted by the burning building behind him, and across his features was none of his usual comicalness, casualness, nor bloodlust. Only a world-weariness which conveyed all his centuries.

“For the Old Masters, fer Bludtharst, ve vere monsters ravink der lands, und vould ‘ave burned Europa to ash for de _fun_ ov it. Yez, pretty bad guys.” He sighed and shook his head. “But dots a lonk time ago.” He relaxed a bit as he held up his hands, and flexed them. “Nows ve’re trying somethink new! So here und now, der House ov Heterodyne fights to protect Europa from der Storm King!”

The mad king seemed stunned by this declaration, before howling, “ ** _Nonsense! Die! Die! DIE!_** ”

Like an enraged beast he charged and swung Platonic Solid at Dimo, who gracefully dodged, resplendent in his stolen uniform. 

“Wow you’re easy to distract!” grinned Zeetha, as she sliced open the monster’s back, shocking him at the same time.

Despite how she had clearly gone deep enough to sever his spine, he still whirled around to unsteadily swipe at her.

“Too slow,” she taunted. “I’m definitely keeping Slasher for myself!”

“ ** _It’s named—_** ”

Jenka and Oggie hit him in the knees, and the Staff of Triumph blasted him onto his back.

Roaring, he rolled away from the clank’s death ray, and jumped to his feet. He screamed about how they were all cowards, monsters, dishonourable, but frankly Zeetha was tuning out all the ranting in favour of the thrill of battle, with the adrenaline spiking through her, she no longer even noticed the pain in her hands.

Unfortunately, this remained a tough fight, as the people he had killed and turned into his slaves kept getting in the way, and the increasingly deranged ‘king’ was becoming even wilder with his mace.

He kept trying to get close to Zeetha, except she knew she was in no shape for a direct fight, and so stuck to hit and runs. Especially since the more he focused on her, the easier it was for the others. Oh hey! Faust was here now too, crushing several of those undead-knights. There were not many left now, leaving only their master. 

Dimo slipped in and got a few punches in with his prosthetic arm, before having to retreat.

“ ** _Give me my sword!_** ” screeched the monster, lunging at her again with a . . . broom?

“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” hissed Violetta, a dozen paces away, furiously waving her hands, while the mace lay on the ground beside her, melted metal laying by the handle. Obviously something else Agatha had fashioned together.

“ ** _No! It doesn’t end like this!_** ”

“ _Yes, **it does**._”

A crackling blue light illuminated the battlefield more than Slasher, heralding the arrival of Colette Voltaire.

Her clothes were burning off of her, and previously brown eyes now glowed blue with the power of a Spark in their fully awakened fury.

Entire city blocks dimmed as she raised her hands and unleashed a blast of pure power in the face of the monstrosity, burning off most of his armour. She was like the entire wrath of Castle Heterodyne compressed into a single person. Speaking of which . . .

“ _Castle! How’re we doing?_ ”

Agatha had arrived now, and her suborned clank was holding the Storm King’s fancy mace, while the mini-Castle clank was making adjustments to the arm holding the weapon. “We’re done, Mistress. That was much simpler than with Archimedes’ Lever.”

“ _Good!_ ” declared the Heterodyne as her clank hefted both it and its gun.

Wounded as he might be, Andronicus refused to stop. Blazing with a blasphemous green glow, he screamed and charged with inhuman speed, only for the ground of Paris to rise up to entrap him with a gesture by Colette.

Agatha’s death ray, a rainbow of energy channelled directly through the older Master of Paris, and Platonic Solid all struck him head-on.

The withered, green husk of a man rolled and flopped across the ground.

He struggled to rise to its feet, and Zeetha brought Slasher down to remove the head.

Andronicus Valois, the Storm King, Europa’s hero of old, collapsed to dust.

Without even stopping to think, she reached down and plucked up the unscathed crown.

“Whoo! Dat’s some hat to wear!” crowed Oggie.

Noticing the Master of Paris bristling, Agatha coughed into her fist to get the Jägers to back off on that.

Belatedly Zeetha understood how awkward this all was, particularly in what was the territory of a man who was king all but in name. She gave the man a half-bow, and said, “Should I present this to you, or to Colette?”

Voltaire’s face became a mask of surprise, before a maniacal grin broke through. A _proud_ grin. “ _Give it to my daughter and heir._ ”

The woman in question was so surprised at the last bit, she almost did not notice Zeetha’s approach. The warrior-princess was sure to appreciate the view though, as every scrap of cloth had burned off Colette by now.

Tenderly, the future Master of Paris accepted the prize. Only for her expression to then harden, “ _It’s not over yet though,_ ” she said, eyes seeming to look into the distance. “ _The ‘Other’ is attacking Paris._ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” agreed Agatha. “ _Yes—the Geisterdamen—they were commanding Revenants._ Lots _of them. I would guess that a significant part of your population is under their control._ ”

“I believe _I_ can help with that,” a suave voice broke in. Dapper as ever, Tarvek joined the party.

(He had gotten lucky in coming across several party guests in costumes that he was able to quickly strip out of that jester’s outfit, and reassemble into something decent. While no Jäger, killing Tweedle’s injured Night Master Jaron for his boots had given him a new appreciation for their fashion choices.)

“ _Oh really?_ ” growled the Master of Paris, only to sway in place. At a gesture by his daughter, a seat rose out of the ground for him to sit down upon.

“Why of course,” demurred Tarvek, holding up clothes for Colette. “Put on some pants,” he hissed, before turning back to the rest of the audience. “It is my responsibility as the Storm King after all.”

Before anyone could make any comment about his claim, he continued on, “And it just so happens that I have what I believe to be a cure for Revenants. While I have yet to test it, I know my inoculations against Wasps worked for Wulfenbach. Moreover, I am sure you, Master Voltaire, can help me perfect it.”

“ _Hrmph_ ,” the old man nodded with reluctant interest.

It was a pure bluff of course, except since those inoculations had worked, Tarvek _did_ have some ideas he was confident about exploring. Especially if he had a lab, certain information, and Master Voltaire helping. The man would of course figure out the deception, yet would probably (hopefully) overlook it in favour of getting results. Especially if Colette ended up in charge, as they had always gotten along well together. Enough that he was sure they would continue to work well together.

“Also, if you broadcast Agatha’s voice, we should be able to command the majority of your citizens to no longer obey the Wasps.”

“It’s like Zola was not expecting me here at all,” said Agatha, coming out of the Madness Place, and smiling at Tarvek. Alas, as much as she wanted to hug him right now though, they had a city to save first.

“ _Indeed. Or she thought you were still stuck underground,_ ” offered Colette. While she was oblivious to it, the others noted she remained firmly in the Madness Place, even if she was remaining uncharacteristically sane. Especially for someone who had just had a Breakthrough. Tarvek and Gil were openly wondering if this was something Master Voltaire had engineered into his children. “ _It doesn’t matter though, we’ll question her later._ ”

“Something was interfering with your law enforcement though,” warned Agatha. “They weren’t handling the Revenants at all.”

“ _Beausoleil_ ,” snarled the Master.

“ _Ah_ ,” Colette’s frowned. “ _Yes. He’s a traitor_.”

A whooshing sound, and one of the man’s clank bodies landed in the center of the group. A long black blade with a distinctive trilobite fell out of his coat. 

She snapped her fingers, and the man gasped in pain and horror. “My-my bodies! You destroyed them—and I felt _every one_ . . .” He pulled himself together, and sneered. “Heh. But you still haven’t got _all_ of me. My _true body_ is no longer in Paris—”

“ _They devil may take your true body, you little traitor_ ,” cut in Colette. “ _You thought you could take my father’s city for your masters? What, I wonder, will they do to you, now that you have failed?”_

“Oh . . . _ah_.”

Simon Voltaire was enjoying himself _very_ much.

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty,” said Tarvek, with the honest grin of a man who just wants everyone to get along, and settle their differences like gentlemen.

It sent a shiver of fear down Beausoleil’s spine.

“After all, you’ve angered both your current masters, the Voltaire’s, Heterodyne, and likely Wulfenbach once he hears of this. So you’re a little short on friends right now.”

“I see,” hedged the traitor. “So you’re offering me the protection of House Valois?”

“Well,” Tarvek took off his glasses to clean them. “I daresay, given your condition, and from what I remember from university, that you were offered the secrets for transferring your flesh into machines, and back again. Lucrezia’s work, even if they passed it off as Van Rijn’s. Still, I’m rather familiar with either. Colette? Please keep the connection open.”

A tool flashed before Beausoleil could move, and the clank body went limp as Tarvek started to open it up. “ _So you have five seconds to start telling us what you know, or that offer of protection is off the table. After that, I give the Voltaire’s and others a direct link to your real body to torture_ right now _!_ ”

(He talked.)

(It was made worse when Tarvek admitted he had bluffed again. At least in the sense that it would take him too long to set that threat up.)

While this farce was occurring, Agatha was giving the Master a recorded message for him to broadcast.

“We’ll go help fight the Geisterdamen,” she said. “But I’d like some alive. We have questions.”

“ _Very well, Heterodyne_.”

“Right then, let’s get to it.”

**_.-~*~-._**

“Hoy, Slasher really suits hyu,” grinned Dimo to Zeetha, as she stood over some dead Geisters.

“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely keeping it!”

It cut right through other swords like they were not even there, and she was figuring out how to shoot lightning with it even! 

Also she was no longer accidentally shocking herself. Which was just as well, because during all the drama earlier, she had missed how her hair was now standing on end. 

“You’re sitting down for some proper healing afterwards,” warned Agatha.

“Right, right. Don’t worry, like I’ve said, I heal fast.”

“I mean it!”

“Vill der new Storm King vant it back doh?” asked Oggie.

Smirking Zeetha said, “Agatha? Could you ask him on my behalf?”

The Heterodyne sighed at that, while Violetta chuckled a little. “He’ll be fine with it,” the Smoke Knight assured. “Small consolation for securing his place as Storm King.”

“You really think it’ll hold?” asked Agatha with a touch of concern.

“Oh, sure. Yeah, Grandma might not exactly appreciate him taking the initiative like that, but she has to admit it was the best time. Martellus is disgraced,” as far as they knew, he was still unconscious, “providing a cure for Revenants, and being connected to you and all of us after how we publicly helped stop Andronicus? In front of all those nobles? Many of whom are among those Revenants he is curing? Couldn’t be better.”

“Hoh!” threw in Jenka. “But if hyu had been born two centuries ago, hyu vould have conquered Europa then!” 

“Hoy! Dots der truth!”

“Too bad, Mizz Zeetha!”

“Eh, I’ll manage. Although it would've been fun to show you Jägers how it was _really_ done!” 

She and the Jägers had a good laugh at that, while Agatha rolled her eyes fondly. 

**_.-~*~-._**

With a sigh of relief, Agatha collapsed onto the couch at the Voltaire family château. “Thank goodness that’s all over!”

“Hoh, but dit vas effer so satisfyink,” said Jenka with an unnervingly wide and malicious smile. Agatha suspected there was some history between her and Andronicus, and resolved to ask about it later.

“Indeed, chérie,” said a cheery Colette. “You all did superb. I even managed to convince Papa that your contribution was worth another week here in Paris!”

“Really!?”

“Yes, indeed! And we’ve even got a lab set aside for you to work with!”

The look of sheer, stunned joy and adoration Agatha shot Colette made the Parisian woman briefly wonder if she was to be the next recipient of the Heterodynes affections. That line about how their love could never be, back at the Awful Tower, had been a joke! Although seeing how the tabloids would depict a Voltaire-Heterodyne affair should be amusingly scandalous. 

Fortunately for her Papa’s heart, instead Agatha ran off to grab her friends so she could get to the lab —forgetting to ask for directions— as fast as possible. This was the break she needed to finally take care of some serious issues.

**_.-~*~-._**

Gossip spread from Paris across Europa and over the English channel.

“Revenants in Paris!”

“They say they found a cure for them though!”

“The ghost of the Storm King awakening to wage vengeance!”

“Because the Heterodyne was in the city!”

“Except one of her companions killed him in a duel! Using his own sword!”

“Doesn’t that make her the Storm Queen!?”

**_.-~*~-._**

When she came awake, Zola automatically knew she was strapped down naked on a medical table.

Even worse, her gorgeous hair had been shaved off, and electrodes attached to her scalp and other parts of her body.

“ _Ah, Zola Anya Talinka Venia Zeblinkya Malfeazium_ ,” intoned Simon Voltaire.

Swallowing down her fear, she tried to open her eyes, only to find them covered.

“ _I have some questions for you about what has been happening in my city_ _, and about Slaver Wasps_ _. This array detects dishonesty in subjects. Even half-truths or attempts to make yourself believe your own lies. If you cooperate, and are honest, we may come to some accommodation. You know from my reputation I can be merciful in such cases. If not, I shall resort to more_ unpleasant _methods . . ._ ”

**_.-~*~-._**

“Baron Wulfenbach, it’s so good to see you,” beamed Colette, welcoming him to Paris.

“Please,” he said with equal happiness, “just Gil for you.”

“Well then, you can continue to call me Colette, my friend.”

“‘Continue?’”

“Why yes, father named me the new Master of Paris.”

“What!?”

“Oh, my, yes. You’ve missed a lot! In fact, as soon as the crisis here was over, he handed me the title with frankly indecent haste. Of course, he’s keeping busy still with his research, only now full-time.”

“Congratulations!” he gushed, before collecting himself. “Is it true Tarvek’s here too?”

“Yes. I’ll take you to his and the Lady Heterodyne’s lab right now if you wish.”

“And . . . the Queen of the Dawn?”

“Yes, again, it was Zola. With her captive and exposed, her kingdom in the north should start to collapse. We’ll leave that for your Empire to handle. Although, without their head . . .”

Gil grimly nodded, fighting the urge to walk faster. “Indeed. It’ll still be a hard fight probably, especially with those Sparks supporting her. Not to mention how we still don’t know exactly what she and Lurcezia set in motion.”

“Ah, about that.”

**_.-~*~-._**

“Oh! Agatha, _there you are!_ Wulfenbach, tell Agatha about that amazing plan of yours to make _Othar Tryggvassen_ head of the Empire’s _diplomatic corps!_ ”

“ ** _His plan to do WHAT?!_** ”

“ _Gotcha_.”

ZXXFRAXXX

“Wha . . . What—”

“ _Hey, Wulfenbach. Turn your Empire over to Agatha._ ”

“Um . . . Okay . . .”

“ ** _YES!_** _It worked!_ ”

**_.-~*~-._**

With Gil back to normal they then turned their attention to extracting Lucrezia from Agatha. After they tested it on Zola first. The ‘Queen of Dawn’ was untouched, yet clearly cowed. Not that even Gil was willing to believe her expressions any more, and he stonily ignored whatever she tried to say to him. 

It was Simon Voltaire though who had proposed that instead of deleting the other mind, that they extract it. A captive for them to interrogate. Indeed, with his and Tarvek’s knowledge of Van Rijn’s techniques, it was theoretical that they could directly ‘read’ those memories, without having to actually talk to the manipulating witch.

Terrified at the possibility, The Other had fought with everything she had to get Agatha to resist the treatment, yet The Heterodyne still dragged herself into the chair for Gil and Tarvek to strap her in.

The switch was thrown.

**_.-~*~-._**

“Ah, Wooster!” smiled Agatha.

The British spy in question looked around the parlor nervously. She and some other ladies were just taking the time to take a rest within the mansion the new Master of Paris had loaned her. And with only a few of the obligatory listening devices at that!

“Don’t worry,” grinned Zeetha teasingly. “Gil’s not here right now.”

“Yeah,” Bang said, showing her teeth in what was only technically a smile, yet definitely reminded Wooster of sharks.

However then he reminded himself he was under the unspoken protection of the Lady Heterodyne and new Master of Paris here, so not even Captain DuPree would touch him. 

. . . Probably.

With a visible sigh of relief, the man accepted the proffered chair. However, he still looked rather stressed. So either it was a deliberate act, or whatever he knew was _very_ bad.

“Did something go wrong in England?” asked Agatha in concern. “Were they unable to capture Professor Zardeliv?” He had offered for her to go to England, yet there had been too much to settle in Paris as well. In retrospect, it was for the best, as the time lost in travelling there, and who knows what else might have happened, might have been enough for Lucrezia to fully break free.

“Oh,” said Colette with a teasing expression which instantly brought to mind to Agatha how Wooster had been revealing unpleasant secrets about Paris. “It’s just that the smuggler ship he was on rammed the wharf, killing many people. Only a few days later, Her Majesty the Queen's Right Puissant Society of Sages, Adepts, and Prometheans, was all wiped out by one of their own. Apparently he became something similar to Albia, and went to challenge her, or propose to her. The details aren’t clear, except that he’s dead now, of course. Not that it fixes how the majority of England’s strongest Sparks are dead, along with their chief R&D.”

Agatha found herself paling a little at the sheer scale of what they had missed, while Wooster’s scowl only darkened. “I hope no one you knew was lost!”

He relaxed a little at her kindness. “A few acquaintances,” he admitted, “if no one I was particularly close to.” 

While happy to hear that, Agatha was rethinking her plans to visit England anytime soon.

“With any luck they managed to kill each other before they died a lame death of drowning,” consoled Bang, which the others ignored. 

**_.-~*~-._**

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the mansion’s library, Gil and Tarvek were discussing the future of both the Wulfenbach Empire, and the Valois Dynasty.

“So no issues with Martellus right now?”

“Oh, no, my delightful cousin is currently on the run for his life. Agatha no longer needs him to keep her healthy after all, and most of his best minions and companions are dead, while the majority of the Order is falling over themselves to declare their support for me. He still has some backers, including Seffie for some sentimental reason—”

Gil scowled a little at that.

“—but he really does have few places to go to now. Especially since he is the main suspect for the murder of the Lord High Conservator of the Incorruptible Library, so even Paris is no longer safe for him.”

It had hardly taken any work for Tarvek to frame him too. Grandma had been found hidden and crushed by debris, and the construct who had abducted him, and the sole remaining witness to what had happened on that dirigible, had died from a stray shot of Platonic Solid. So with no conflicting testimony, it had been child’s play to fabricate his own ‘evidence.’

“ _Such_ a pity.”

“Indeed. By the way, what’s this I hear about a raid on Castle Wulfenbach?”

“Apparently the ship they seized is on its way to Paris, so we’ll find out soon enough. For now though, how do you think we should handle the situation in the North?”

“Well . . .”

**_.-~*~-._**

“. . . You killed Andronicus Valois,” Higgs dumbly said. He had finally arrived in Paris, only to discover he may have overreacted in rushing over here. Also, now he had to come up with some excuse for Wulfenbach as to why he had apparently deserted his post. 

“Yep,” beamed Zeetha, reaching over her shoulder to tap the hilt of Slasher which was on her back. She no longer needed the gauntlets to do so. 

“And had his ha— _crown_ , but gave it up?”

“Yah, didn’t see the point. He wasn’t really that much of a fight. Figured I’d save my first hat for a _worthy_ foe.” Her fangs glistentened, and eyes burned with a warrior’s flame which would have made Klaus Wulfenbach recognize her mother in a heartbeat.

In that moment, the man now known as Axel Higgs could think of nothing except for how perfect she was. 

With that out of the way, she grabbed her _highly_ aroused boyfriend by the collar, and dragged him off to someplace private.

**_.-~*~-._**

“What a mess,” Gil flatly said, throwing another thick pile of papers down on the parlor table.

They had started extracting Lucrezia’s secrets, with Zola and captured Geisters collaborating details —and he did _not_ want to think about that— and they were still only scratching the surface of what that madwoman had accomplished.

Cleaning up her messes would be the work of a lifetime. Fortunately, they had Colette supporting them on this, and it would be laughably easy to bring Albia in after she verified who was responsible for killing most of the God Queens thousands of years ago. Even in the unlikely event Albia had let that grudge go, she certainly would not tolerate such a threat to herself to remain. 

“At least we have someplace to start,” pointed out Agatha, sipping her coffee. For the sake of Paris, her friends had made sure the serving staff only provided a dab of caffeine to it. A plate of untouched cake laid out before her. “We still don’t know how to help fix what’s going on in Mechanicsburg, but without her secrets, we can dismantle what’s left of Lucrezia’s schemes.”

“It won’t be easy of course,” sighed Tarvek, enjoying his own coffee from his favourite place in Paris. “We’re still in the dark about a lot of it. Like what was set in motion over the last two years.”

“I know,” she softly smiled, taking in the both of them. “However, together I know we’ll—”

A wall exploded inwards as familiar looking mechanized armour stomped in. “ _Lady Heterodyne!_ ” yelled Pierre Van Stron, Grand Supreme and Illustrious President of the Musketeers of Truth.

“Again?” Agatha growled, irritated at him for coming after her once more, especially with the trio’s time together being interrupted. Not to mention he had burst in before she could enjoy her cake _again_.

“ _You will not escape me twice! Now your machinations will be_ revealed! _How you have ensnared the_ Baron Wulfenbach _into your schemes to rule over Europa! Just as you seduced_ Hoffmann _and made him your puppet king for the Argurons, to enable your take-over of the_ Paris underground!”

Feeling a little more offended at these more coherent accusations, she simply said, “Queen Larana Chroma might take offense if she hears you saying that.”

Gil merely sipped his coffee in nostalgic memory of his time in Paris.

“Wait a moment!” sputtered Tarvek. “Where do I fit in? I’m the Storm King!”

“ _Bah! An obvious fake! A_ lackey _planted by her to cover for the fact the_ real _one is still trapped within Mechanicsburg!_ ”

“Fake!?”

“ _Yes! You look_ nothing _like_ Moloch von Zinzer!”

“Ah ha ha ha ha!” laughed Agatha, unable to hold her covertly drawn Death Ray straight.

“What!?” cried an aghast Tarvek. “How do you even—!?”

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Gil laughed even harder. “He’s got you there! You’ve been found out!”

“ _See! Even_ Wulfenbach _knows it! Now surren—_ ”

Van Stron keeled over within his suit.

“Sorry about that,” said Violetta, grin threatening to split her face as she pocketed her dart gun. “We’ll leave you be.”

Dimo, Maxim, and Oggie pulled the intruders away, yet once they were around the corner, and still close enough to be heard, the four lost self-control and began cackling as well.

“Ugh!” groaned Tarvek as his forehead dropped to the table.

“There, there,” Agatha managed, valiantly trying to stifle any giggles. “Gil and I both know you’ve only got Zeetha to challenge you for the Lightning Throne.”

“I wonder how her consort Mister Higgs would look with that crown on,” Gil smiled with unholy glee.

“Gah!” screeched Tarvek as the Jägers became even louder and he realized just _who_ he would be up against, and Agatha started laughing again.

Yes, they would get through it all. 

**Author's Note:**

> The reason that Colette still broke through despite her dad not dying, was simply because I feel she was already on her way to fully achieving it as is before she was interrupted. This AU fight simply took longer, which gave her the time she needed.
> 
> As for Seffie, she was not helping her brother with the Storm King (including dragging him away), because as much as she cares for him, she did not want to be in the middle of that huge fight. Supporting Colette seemed a better way to aid him. Plus she was not entirely sure if he was even alive.
> 
> Trogulus still survives, as does Karl. Due to the lack of Agatha and Co. being in the Dome as potential allies, or Wooster there for his investigation, they realized there was nothing they could really do to stop the Grey Cloaks in time. Especially since they did not know how high up the conspiracy went. However, they did manage to escape with a copy of Tobber’s equations, and his book. Eventually they make their way to Paris and Agatha, since they understand enough from that research to know that what is happening to Mechanicsburg is Bad News.
> 
> Also, yes, Martellus dies off-screen when his chemical withdrawal symptoms hit. Except he was already too far away (trying to escape those who wanted him dead), without the sort of resources he would have had in canon in Paris, and it took too long for him to safely get to Paris. So he dies. So sad. Honest.


End file.
